Crossing Paths
by sarhea
Summary: She was the type to always have a destination in her career and private life, but to appease her grandmother she went to Gotham where she stumbled into an unexpected situation. COMPLETE : AU BtAS, B7EWE : Hermione Granger, Bruce Wayne/Batman
1. First Meetings

**Title**: Crossing Paths  
**Author**: sarhea  
**Fandom**: Harry Potter, Batman TAS, Justice League (very little)  
**Pairing**: Hermione Granger, Bruce Wayne 'Batman'  
**Categories**: Crossover, xover, AU, Drama, Action, Crime, Romance, het, gen  
**Summary**: Hermione Granger was not the type to journey without an end destination in her career or private life but to appease her grandmother she found herself in Gotham where she stumbled into an unexpected situation involving a magical dragon statue and a Muggle businessman/costumed hero.  
**A/N**: EWE for B7 Deathly Hallows. Please excuse any discrepancies from canon. Consider this fic as AU.  
******Rating**: R, some innuendo  
**Warning**: Purists may scream Batman is OOC. Remember folks… Fanon not canon, Fanfiction. Most of what I draw from DCverse is from the cartoons, not the comics.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and co (J.K. Rowling does) and I do not own Batman/Bruce Wayne, Gotham, et al, (DC Comics, Bob Kane, Warner Bros and other companies do).  
**For**: LJ Community hgcrossovers – Hermione Granger Crossover Exchange 2010  
**Prompts**:  
* Word Set A: dragon statue, crow, trousers, lie  
* Word Set B: friction, trump card, button, honesty  
* Situation or Quote A: Tuesday (n) in which the unusual usually happens.

* * *

Summary: Their first meeting was not exactly promising. She thought he was a wastrel though she quickly realized he had hidden depths.

A/N: EWE for B7 Deathly Hallows. Please excuse any discrepancies from canon. Consider this fic as AU.

**~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~**

**~ooO Crossing Paths (1) First Meetings Ooo~**

Bruce Wayne ignored the growing hum of speculative whispers and pointed glances. His attention was focused on one particular woman. She was examining a particular piece on display; a solid dragon carved from rare blue jade with scanty provenance. Officially it was on loan from a businessman of questionable ethics. Batman Knew Angelo Bellucino fronted for certain Gotham Criminal Families; proving it in a court of law was something else altogether.

She was bending over the velvet ropes that kept everyone attending the Gotham City's Natural History Museum gala event from getting too close to the rare displays. The action caused the silky black material of her dress to stretch across her back and hips. It was a very old-fashioned garment, dated, almost puritanical in its cut. A bodice cut close to the body but not tight, long draping sleeves that gathered tight below the elbow and fitted tightly around the forearms to the cuffs by rows of cloth covered black buttons. The skirts flowed gently over broad curvy hips in full flares that ended mid-calf. Unlike most women who wore stilettos and sandals She wore black leather low-heeled dress boots decorated with small silver studs. The tops of the boots were high enough to disappear under the hem of her skirt. She had light brown hair streaked with gold and chocolate twisted and braided into a coronet that wrapped around her head.

What did her face look like? As though in response to his thoughts, she turned to speak to one of the museum curators. Her new position gave Bruce a clear view of her front.

Her dress was as plain from the front; it had a high stand-up collar and a line of buttons to a point below the breastbone. The waistline was low and v-shaped, the point where the skirt began flowing fully around her legs. She was attractive but not beautiful with strong defined features. Arching fly away dark brows, high cheekbones, a straight nose, full mouth, stubborn looking defined chin. The only jewelry she wore were a pair of crystal and jet chandelier-style earrings dangling down almost to her shoulders.

"See someone interesting?"

Bruce glanced at the woman who had made her way to his side. A journalist.

"Miss Gleeson." He spoke in careful neutral tones.

Summer Gleeson was not dissuaded.

"Any quotes Mr Wayne? On the gala? Your current girlfriend? Your date?"

Bruce gritted his teeth. Reporters were a nuisance but they were a necessary evil and useful tool in maintaining his cover. So he smiled a bland charming smile and mentally prepared to rattle off one of his many memorized rote responses.

~o~

"Hermione!"

Hermione Granger stifled a sigh at the familiar piercing voice. Isabelle Vandermeer could be as ear piercing as Molly Weasley. But she was a good friend of grand-mama and Hermione had Promised to be a good houseguest.

"Mrs Vandermeer."

The heavily made-up gray-haired society matron pouted. Not a very attractive expression on a sixty-plus Muggle woman.

"Hermione, you Must call me Isabelle."

Hermione demurred. "Oh I cannot. It would be most rude."

"What is rude is your continuous attempts to avoid my introductions Hermione." Pale blue eyes sharpened. "Melisande would be unhappy to hear that. She specifically asked me to make sure you socialize. She said you had a tendency to get over-involved with work. And from what I have seen she is quite right."

Hermione coughed. "Yes, well, Grandmother knows I like learning about new things and research. I would not have chosen it as a career if I hated it."

The society matron sniffed. "Nonsense. You are here in Gotham to relax and enjoy culture! Not to work! I don't see how exciting it can be! You haven't said anything about what you do!"

Hermione wished she had refused the invitation. In wizarding society it would have been much easier to avoid social events and questions. Everyone knew she worked for the Department of Mysteries as a researcher. Everyone knew Unspeakables were oathbound to never speak of their work. A convenient lie to avoid questions. Well Unspeakables were oathbound but Hermione was not an Unspeakable. Not entirely.

"I cannot speak of it Isabelle." Give in on one point, divert attention from the rest. "My employers pay me for my discretion."

"You cannot tell me anything?" The older woman wheedled.

"Well, I do data mining and analysis. I look for patterns, trends, and make extrapolations."

"Oh! Do you use computers?"

"Yes." It was the truth. One of her first personal research projects involved investigating methods to shield and power electronics such as laptops in a magic saturated environment. No one knew she had succeeded and Hermione intended to keep it that way. Knowledge was power and she was not willing to risk the wrong sort getting their hands on it. Besides, if wizards really wanted to learn about Muggle ways they should talk to Muggles and walk in the Muggle world.

Isabelle sighed seeing she would not get any more detail from the tight lipped younger woman.

"Come along dear. I want you to meet some very nice gentlemen."

She wrapped her hand around Hermione's wrist and began tugging the younger woman along.

"Isabelle! I really don't want to meet anyone else! I've forgotten half the people you've introduced to me!"

A lie. Hermione had a photographic memory. It was just that she wasn't interested in people Isabelle liked. The socialite type. They reminded her of Slytherins and snobby Ravenclaws.

"And I really want to get a closer look at that dragon statue. It looks interesting."

It was interesting. In fact it did not belong in a Muggle museum. The jade statue was a wizarding relic. Hermione spotted few runes carved into the body of the dragon itself. The translations of the visible runes were not very reassuring and she was certain there were others hidden. Hermione desperately wanted to do a more thorough investigation of the artefact, to get as much information as possible before approaching the American Aurors. Both American and British Aurors were always reluctant to interfere in Muggle matters without overwhelming proof of magical involvement.

Isabelle grinned slyly. "If you want to examine the statue up close I know someone who can arrange that for you."

Hermione perked up. "Really? Who?"

"Follow me. I'll introduce you to him."

Hermione allowed herself to be tugged along, through the crowd of men and women clad in expensive designer gowns and suits. Finally she found herself a few feet away from a broad shouldered man clad in an expensive tailored tuxedo. A very well cut suit given the way the trousers stretched over his bum and thighs. Idly she wondered if the front-view was as good as the back. Then he turned and she wished she had controlled her wandering thoughts because the front view was Much better than the back.

His torso was a defined triangle, something that was built and maintained through sweat and exercise, not just genetics. His suit strained to contain his mass when he moved and gestured, hinting at powerful muscles hidden behind the expensive material. Beneath the jacket the shirt front was a panel of tiny pleats, the buttons jet and silver studs. The cuffs were closed with silver and jet monogrammed cuff links. The steel band of an expensive timepiece on his left wrist glinted under the spot lightning when the cuff was pulled back by his extravagant motions. The man seemed incapable of standing still. As he shifted his weight from side to side tendons and defined muscles bunched and flexed, drawing attention to the way the wool and silk blend trouser material stretched over them. The muscles on the front of his thighs were as developed as the back. Hermione gulped and focused on the splashes of colours: matching burgundy bow-tie and cummerbund. Was his waist as narrow as the cut indicated…? No! Firmly she forced her eyes up, to his chin.

Oh Merlin! His face was as eye-catching as the rest of him. Square, sharply defined with a faint shallow cleft. Thin hard lips curved in a plastic smile. A long narrow hawkish nose bisecting a dramatic, eye-catching visage. Black-brown hair, clearly styled but looking slightly overlong. Dark cobalt blue eyes, glassy and opaque as obsidian. High slanted cheekbones accenting the planes of his face.

Absently Hermione heard the introductions being made and voiced the appropriate responses before holding out her hand. He took it and brushed a kiss against the knuckles. His fingers were strong, the tips faintly callused.

And then she paid attention to his words and tone: syrupy, condescending, patronizing, chauvinistic, air-headed, illogical, selfish, extravagant, excessive, foolish. A tension knot began to form in her belly, twisting churning and growing into a full-fledged desire to cut this arrogant foolish male down to size. And then she saw It; brief flashes of cool calculation in cobalt blue eyes, observing and cataloguing every response, his tone and words shifting to provoke specific responses. Her rage stilled and died. He was pretending. And then she realized something else. This man had secrets.

Hermione considered her conclusions then catalogued and filed them as irrelevant. Bruce Wayne was an American Muggle businessman, not someone she would be interested in. But he was So attractive! She hated it! She hated the way he made her pulse trip, her tummy quiver, her blood race. She inhaled deeply, trying to regain her equilibrium, and regretted the action. It only filled her nostrils with the scents of Him: musk, citrus, bergamot. She struggled to control her body reactions, reflexively slipping into a meditation routine to exercise and control her magical aura and reactions.

Bad idea. Bruce Wayne jumped the moment her aura touched him. Odd, she hadn't pegged him for a squib. He probably had a magical ancestor a few generations back. Curious she narrowed the touch to test the edges of his personal aura and regretted it.

His aura slapped hers down reflexively, tangling and knotting with the tendrils she had sent out. He was not a wizard but he had Power. Body and Spirit Energy, chi and reiki. He did not seem to control it consciously but it was so dense it flattened most external energy probes. Hermione wondered just how it had reached an advanced stage of development. The only Muggles –that she knew of– with similar developed auras were members of various religious orders or very spiritual beings. Somehow she couldn't quite see the Playboy Billionaire Prince of Gotham in monk robes or meditating on the ethereal aspects of life.

Hastily she 'tugged', thinning and splitting her aura probes, drawing back what she could and cutting the rest loose. Then she saw his curious expression. He did not clearly sense or 'see' what she did but he felt Something. And he clearly was not used to females who didn't fawn over him at the drop of a hat.

"Miss Granger? Would you like to dance?"

Exasperation, fear and irritation made her react more honestly than she had planned to.

"Not particularly Mr Wayne."

He blinked clearly taken aback by her response. Then he tried again. "Are you sure? I don't want to miss out on dancing with one of the prettiest ladies around."

This time the look she gave him was laced with amused condescension.

"Mr Wayne, do you make it a habit of lying to every female you are introduced to?"

Now he looked wary. "Why do you ask that?" Hermione noted he was trying to divert her attention without answering her question.

She waved her hand, indicating the other gala attendees. "There are other more beautiful women, women who would welcome your attentions. And your expression indicates you are really not interested in dancing."

His eyes sharpened and focused more intently on her. "I was raised to be polite Miss Granger. At an occasion like this it is courteous to ask the ladies present to dance."

Hermione nodded agreeably. "True. But next time try being more honest as well. Genuine conversation is more welcome than social lies." Her lips flattened and eyes darkened as old memories came to the forefront; memories of her first serious boyfriend, a lying cheating jealous envious red-head bastard who had tried to control every aspect of her life. He had very nearly succeeded in destroying her.

His head tilted to one side, studying her as intently as Hedwig had eyed owl-treats. "Very well then… You look like a crow among peacocks. I don't understand why you are dressing like a dowager in widow weeds. You are attractive with a good figure. If you change your wardrobe you can easily draw a lot of attention."

Hermione laughed. It was a genuine and heartfelt outburst. "Thank you for your advice but I prefer being a crow." Her expression turned animated. "You know the Aboriginals of North America consider crows to be wise and powerful totems? I met a shaman who said crows were my totem animal. He said crows teach us to be mindful of our opinions and actions. Crows are considered to be omens of change, symbols of creation and spiritual strength that merge dark and light, inner and outer. Crows are supposed to have no sense of time, seeing past present and future simultaneously." Her expression turned more solemn. "Crows are keepers of Sacred Law, they help one find a balance between Mans Law and Spiritual Law. To live with few regrets one must learn to balance our past, present, and future. We must be willing to walk our talk, speak our truths, and know our life's mission."

Then she noticed he was looking at her with a peculiar intense expression.

"I'm sorry Mr Wayne, sometimes I tend to go off topic to share something I just learned. I forget not everyone is as interested in random factoids as I am."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize. It is refreshing to talk to someone on something other than the latest on-dits." Then he held out a hand and smiled slightly. "Miss Granger, would you care to dance? You can tell me just what a British woman like yourself is doing in Gotham."

Hermione couldn't resist smiling back. It was a bright genuine expression that animated her rather ordinary girl-next-door looks into something extraordinary.

"Oh everything and nothing Mr Wayne. But I'm afraid you'll have to settle on an indefinite a rain check on that dance. I have a full day tomorrow and really need a full nights rest. I will be leaving Gotham in three days and I still a few items on my do/see list." She held her hand out. "It was a pleasure meeting you Mr Wayne." She cocked her head to one side. "You might want to try a bit of honesty in your future interactions. You might be pleasantly surprised."

He nodded slowly. "I will consider it." He took her hand and brushed a kiss against it. "Next time we meet I will take you up on that dance."

It was a polite social lie. It would be almost impossible for them to cross paths in the next three days. And then after that she would be returning to Britain, an entire ocean away. They belonged to different walks of life, different worlds, different lands.

"Good night Mr Wayne."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

**~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~**

Review, Review, Review


	2. Second Meetings

Summary: Their second meeting was more confrontational and both of them discover just what the other is hiding behind social masks.

A/N: I couldn't just stop at just the first meeting. Darn bunnies!

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**~ooO Crossing Paths (2) Second Meetings 1 Ooo~**

Hermione tapped one nail on a large sheet of paper spread out on her drafting table. It was one of several containing the blueprints, floor plans, and security schematics for Gotham City's Natural History Museum. Carefully she reviewed her plans and nodded to herself. Yes. It was doable. If she timed everything Just Right.

Hermione snorted softly as she quickly began dressing in leathers made from blue-tinted ebony dragon hide. Her current calm state of mind was a far cry from the first time she had broken into a secure installation. At least this time she was better prepared, equipped and trained, compared to the time she and Harry had broken into Gringotts!

With the ease of much practice she began tucking her equipment and tools into various pockets and loops built into the harness/webbing covering her dragonhide sneak suit. As she buckled up and cleared away her supplies and research her mind drifted onto just Why she was preparing to break into a Muggle museum to steal a priceless relic.

~ooO Begin Flashback ~o~

Hermione stared at the American Auror shocked by what he had just said.

"Excuse me? What do you mean the Aurors aren't going to do anything? I just told you! A Magical Relic is in a Muggle Museum! It is too risky to leave it unguarded!"

Derek Williams shook his head slightly. He hated dealing with legends. They arrived, caused chaos, and vanished leaving ordinary wizards to do the clean up.

"I'm sorry Miss Granger. We cannot take the dragon statue on your say so. I'm not saying you aren't right but there is a due process I have to follow. I need a warrant and a judge to sign off on it. And then an agent from the Muggle Liaison office to accompany me. It will take at least two weeks due to the backlog in both offices."

Hermione shook her head. "It will be too late by then! My research indicates the optimal time for the ritual is within the next two nights!"

The Auror shook his head. "Miss Granger, all you have are speculations. You don't have any real proof this dragon statute is the same one required for the ritual."

Hermione glared. "This statute has True Runes carved all over it."

The older wizard frowned. "But how do you know it is the same statute described in here?" He looked down at a Muggle stye folder filled with Muggle paper covered with neat handwriting and sketches. "Besides, doesn't this power boost ritual require other amplifiers?"

Hermione nodded empathically. "Yes! That is why I'm so worried. While I was doing my research I uncovered a few other facts. Relics that could be the remaining three amplifiers have been stolen in the past six months. A red carnelian firebird from a Muggle museum in Moscow. A brown-green agate turtle from San Francisco Museum of Wizarding History. And an onyx and mother-of-pearl white tiger from the Midoriko Museum of Magical History in Kyoto. I strongly believe the blue jade dragon in the Gotham City Natural History Museum is the last one of the set. Four statues representing the Four Gods: Carnelian Phoenix representing Suzaku of the South, Jade Dragon representing Seiryuu of the East, Agate Turtle representing Genbu of the North, and Onyx-Pearl Tiger representing Byakko of the West."

The wizard suddenly looked very weary. "I'm sorry Miss Granger but I can't help you. The rules are very strict about magicals interacting with Muggles. With the JLU around we have to be much more careful than you European magicals."

Hermione nodded and backed off. She hated working with local law enforcement, she didn't have the knack of 'schmoozing' with near strangers. The few times she had made the effort it ended badly. Hermione was not the type to bend and give way. It was inevitable she generated friction from butting heads over what she saw as Wrong. She had little tolerance for incompetence and sycophants. And given how nepotism seemed to be a fact of life in the magical enclaves she generally encountered a great deal of hostility in her dealings with bureaucracy. In fact she tended to raise the hackles of most people with her tendency to walk right over anyone in her way. The only reason why she had so much leeway was her role in the recent Magical War. And her friendship with Harry.

Her expression brightened. She still had one trump card to play.

"What if I got the okay to confiscate the statue from the ICW?" She didn't like asking favours from Harry but desperate situations called for desperate measures. Like begging her best friend to use his reputation and fame to wrangle approval from the ICW.

The Auror shook his head. "You can have an approval from the ICW in your hands right now and it won't do any good Miss Granger. I'll still need someone from the Muggle Liaison office and the Courts to sign off the seizure."

Hermione stared aghast, unable to believe that nothing could be done.

"You can't be serious Auror Williams! I've just told you relics for a multi-fold power boost ritual have been stolen and you are telling me you can't do anything to stop this from happening?"

"I can't. The rules are very clear Miss Granger. We cannot interfere in Muggle Affairs without approval from the Courts and Muggle Liaison office."

By now Hermione was desperate.

"What about the Justice League? I heard they have a few mages who are members. Perhaps they could act-."

The Auror frowned at the British witch. "Don't even go there Miss Granger. All witches and wizards in America are forbidden from approaching a metahuman or alien, hero or villain! A breach in the Statute of Secrecy is Unacceptable!"

Hermione flinched. "But-."

His expression softened. "I know how you feel but it is for the best. Things have a tendency of getting out of control around League members. You should not contact them."

~o~ End Flashback Ooo~

Hermione carefully stepped into her Ukranian Ironbelly dragonhide boots and sealed them up the back. The law was not going to act and it forbade her from approaching those who could. So she would do the next best thing – steal the statue herself.

Her body moved into a quick kata, testing her range of motion and settling the harness and straps around her more comfortably. Sure it was a Tuesday night but with any luck things would go smoothly and she would secure the statue without incidents. However deep down inside Hermione suspected it was going to be a night from her favourite TV show (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), a Tuesday night when the weird and wacky usually happens. Hermione prayed it would not involve riding any winged beast to freedom or away from danger. She'd already ridden hippogriffs, thestrals, and dragons. And she did not even like flying!

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Eighty minutes later Hermione stood in front of the display that had contained the jade dragon statue. The Muggle electronic surveillance had been easy to temporarily neutralize using her customized warding stones. A human security guard was not scheduled to check on this room for another two hours. Enough time to verify her suspicions and clear out.

For the nth time she wished she had felt comfortable enough to ask Bruce Wayne to use his influence to examine the statue more closely. If it turned out to be enchanted with a few minor trifling charms it could prove embarrassing. But it hadn't felt right to involve him if the statue was the real deal. Hermione did not like involving innocent bystanders in magical messes. They did not have the abilities or the mind-set to cope with the inevitable danger. That was why she had Obliviated her parents and sent them to Australia after her Sixth Year. Unfortunately they had not felt the same way when she had restored their memories. Her relationship with them was still strained, even nearly ten years after the end of the War.

She forced her thoughts to more positive avenues. Everything had gone perfectly. She had Apparated into a small storage room and used it as the focus to set out a web of neutralizing wards that would mask her presence. From there it was easy to make her way to her target. A measuring spell to transfigure a duplicate of matching mass and appearance. And a switching spell later she held her target in her hands. All she needed to do was get back to the storage room, 'unwind' the wards and Apparate out.

"What are you doing with that statue?" A harsh gritty voice broke the silence.

Hermione froze for a split second before she forced her body to relax. Of course the universe would not co-operate with her. It was after all a Tuesday night. She really wished she was wearing the hood and mask that were part of her sneak gear. Right now they were pushed back and resting around her neck and under her chin rather uselessly.

She could cast a wide effect spell and run but that would leave traces that the Aurors Would find. Her computer-like brain considered the factors, determined options, discarded several narrowing her choices down before deciding on one.

She turned around, still cradling the dragon statue against her waist, and faced the owner of the foreboding voice.

Batman.

He was everything she had read. And not.

Eyes hidden behind the white lenses in his cowl narrowed fractionally. She sensed the hidden shift in his stance. He recognized her. His expression turned a fraction grimmer, mouth hard and unsmiling, his entire visage severe and unrelenting.

"Why?"

Hermione scrambled for time. "Why what?" She prevaricated.

"Why are you stealing That statue?" He glanced around the room filled with rarer, and more valuable and highly sought after relics on the antiquities black-market.

For a brief instant she considered lying then decided otherwise. Given his reputation he would find out the truth sooner or later. And it would not benefit her to earn his distrust. So truth it would be. But how much truth?

She considered all she knew of him, his reputation and actions, his pragmatism and will. Perhaps he -of all the League- would understand the benefits of being proactive. So she gave him an honest answer.

"This statue is one of a set of four required in a magical ritual to increase the magical core of the caster at least ten fold. Three have already gone missing from various museums around the world. This is the last one."

Batman frowned briefly. "How do I know you are telling the truth?"

She shrugged slightly. "You don't."

He considered her relaxed stance. "You are a magician?"

Hermione snorted softly. "Hardly. I'm not a stage-magician like Zatanna Zatarra. I'm a wand witch." She explained.

Comprehension dawned. "The Enclaves."

She blinked taken aback. "You know?"

"I avoid them." His response was blunt. "I don't like their tendency to mess with memories of any witnesses."

Hermione nodded slightly. "I understand. I don't like it myself but it is required by our laws."

"So are you going to try to wipe my memories?" He asked warily.

The witch snorted softly and shook her head. "Why should I?. As you see I am not to follow the letter of the law blindly. Besides," She grinned more broadly. "This is just what I had wished for in the first place."

Now she had confused him. "Excuse me?"

She patted the dragon she was holding and continued rambling on without answering his question. "I had not expected to see the dragon in Gotham. I knew the tiger and the turtle had gone missing from magical museums but no one from the enclaves knew where the phoenix and dragon were."

"Until recently."

"Until recently." She affirmed. "I recognized the name of the owner on the display. Angelo Bellucino is a squib from a Chicago wizarding clan. He has no true magical abilities though he can use magical devices and potions. He used those resources to advance his standing in the Mafia and Syndicates. His magical relatives have protected him from prosecution by both Magical and Non-Magical law. I tried to buy the statue from him with a generous mark-up on its estimated value but he refused all my offers. This leads me to believe he knows this statue is part of the Four Gods Ritual. He cannot cast the ritual but I'm certain he knows many of questionable ethics who can. I'm afraid he has promised to sell the statue to one of them."

There was silence for thirty seconds while he absorbed the information.

"Did you try to speak with your law enforcement officials?"

Hermione snorted softly. "It was the first thing I did. They need at least two weeks to get the proper warrants and clearance. The optimum time for the ritual is tonight or tomorrow night. I could not risk waiting so I decided to secure the statue." She gave a tiny shrug. "I'm not a government employee and obligated to obey all their rules."

Batman stared at her hard before speaking in clipped tones. "You said this is what you had wished for. What do you mean?"

She blinked taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. "Oh that. I wished I could contact a member of the Justice League but magical laws forbid any witch or wizard from contacting a League member or villain, metahuman or alien or magical." She smiled slightly. "However in this case you approached me. I can freely swear any magical oath attesting to that."

He made a stifled sound. Hermione suspected it was a snort of laughter. He regained control before speaking.

"That is an interesting excuse for breaking-and-entering."

Hermione shrugged slightly. "Not an excuse. I still plan on stealing the statue."

His aura darkened. "Excuse me?" He growled in an impressively threatening fashion. Hermione gave him eight points before meeting his eyes squarely.

"I can't let the statue remain unprotected. The closest window of opportunity for the ritual is within the next two days, the following one is six months in the future. The Aurors cannot act without a warrant which will take at least two weeks. The other three statues are gone, so I must keep this one safe. If it makes you feel better I am willing to swear a magical oath to that effect."

~o~

Batman stared at the small curvy woman dressed in skin tight blue-black leather. He was irate and torn by the situation. Figures. Every woman that caught his eye had to be criminals or metas of one sort or another. She spoke of good intentions but was she telling the truth? True the dragon statue was not the most valuable piece on display, or easiest to dispose on the black-market. It was too distinctive and usually those types of pieces took a long time to unload, or a pre-arranged buyer. If she was truly a career-criminal she would not have paid so much attention to it in public, at the Gala. Bruce Wayne had witnessed her interest in the piece but he had not suspected she was interested enough to attempt to steal it. It was pure chance the Museum happened to be part of the patrol route he had chosen this night.

Firmly he focused his wandering attention on the issue at hand. What to do? Should he trust in instincts and allow her to take the statue or logic and stop her?

~o~

Hermione stared at the darkly clad man. He seemed to be lost in thought. He no longer had that overpowering and threatening aura. Her own began to expand reflexively, to test her surroundings for threats and traps. Then she froze when she 'touched' an aura she recognized. It surprised Hermione so much she spoke without censorship or caution.

"Mr. Wayne? Is that you?"

Little pieces, observations facts and rumours, all began to fall into place like a jigsaw puzzle, slowly then faster creating an almost complete picture. When Batman stiffened imperceptibly Hermione knew she was right. And she also knew she had to reassure him, to stop him from executing whatever elaborate back-up plan he had for anyone who discovered his identity.

She marched, closing the distance between them until she was scant inches from him. Then she spoke, stabbing a finger in his chest for emphasis, unafraid of his looming glower.

"Don't you dare tell me I'm mistaken! I know what I sensed! Your aura is exactly the same as Bruce Wayne: developed, dense, and hyper sensitive to intrusion. I've met very few people with similar auras and all of them are very religious people living isolated spiritual lives. Not the type to live in Gotham." He glared, clearly not trusting someone who uncovered his secrets in just two meetings. Hermione sighed and touched his chest, pressing her palm against the armour reinforced surface. "Look, just back off and let me be. This will be just one more secret I have to keep. And I am very good at keeping secrets. Just as I am at uncovering them." His expression remained stony. "If it makes you feel better I can swear a vow to that effect." She offered. Then she froze and turned around to face the door. "Someone is here. Two males. They just breached my ward lines." She hissed.

"Security?"

She shook her head. "The guard isn't due for another hour and forty-five minutes." Her eyes met his, serious and insistent. "Get off the floor." She ordered before following her own advice.

She produced a two-by-two feet woven square from one of the pouches on her harness and tossed it on the ground. It fell smoothly without any folds or creases. Deftly she stepped on it and knelt on the thick fabric before murmuring softly under her breath.

"Levitate."

The 'carpet' obeyed, lifting into the air, higher and higher until her head was just two feet away from the high vaulted ceiling. As it lifted she pushed the statue in one of the pockets on the harness. Batman watched bemused as the two-foot long statue vanished into a space that looked like it could only hold a paperback book. He wondered if he could get something similar made for his belt and gloves. Then he heard the soft scrape of rubber on marble and stiffened. The intruders were here. Swiftly he followed her instructions, firing his grappling gun so the claw wrapped around an exposed beam. Then the cable retracted lifting him into the air.

Both waited in tense silence for a few minutes. Then the doors opened and two men in close fitting black jumpsuits entered the room. The man and woman watching from above did not make their presence known as the two would-be thieves made their way to the display stand with the fake dragon-statue. Batman tensed, ready to spring into action. Hermione touched his arm and shook her head indicating no. Reluctantly he drew back and waited.

The thieves neutralized the security on the display and lifted the statue off the stand. And then it happened.

From around the base of the display pairs of eight feet long wire cables emerged, wrapping around the thieves like Poison Ivy's vines. But in this case the vines were metal and animated by magic. Five seconds later the thieves screamed softly before being knocked unconscious by a small electrical charge.

"Got them." The gleeful satisfaction in her voice was unmistakable.

He watched as she guided the floating 'carpet' down and stepped off with the grace of a movie star on a red carpet. And then she stepped over to the thieves, bound tightly in the now non-animated cables, and knelt down between the two. He did not protest as she unmasked each of the thieves in turn and made a soft sound.

"I recognize them from my visit to Bellucino. They are his employees." She reached out and almost touched one face, running her finger just over the hairline. "This one is a squib." She ran that same finger down the black clad chest and over the jumpsuit pockets. "He has several magical devices. Knock-out and explosive potions as well. Reason to be detained by an Auror."

She straightened and produced a device from another pocket and spoke into it. Some sort of communication device. Catching his interested look she explained. "This is a two-way mirror, very similar to a walkie-talkie but not practical for mass-distribution since all the mirrors linked must be cut from the same large piece during the creation. If one gets damaged there is no way to repair or replace it." Then she focused on the mirror. "Hi Harry, I need a favour. Can you use your Floo to contact the American Aurors? I need someone sent to the Gotham City Natural History Museum. Derek Williams preferably since I've already spoken to him. Tell him to contact the Unspeakables once all the paperwork is signed off to pick up the statue. No, I'm not in any trouble. Just be a sweetie and do this for me, will you? All right, I'll tell you everything when I get back. Dinner, my treat." Then she tucked it away and smiled at Batman. "I'm done. If you want you can hang around and wait for the Aurors." She thrust her fingers into another pocket and produced a card she held out. "If you wish to contact me rip this up or burn it. It will set off a signal on my end. You can have any of your mage allies verify there are no tracking spells on it."

Gingerly he accepted the rectangular piece of expensive cotton-rag cardstock. It was cream coloured with a subtle texture reminiscent of falling leaves. The ink used was a blue so dark it was almost black. The script was elegant copperplate, names and titles that made no sense to Batman but he strongly suspected they were ones of significant importance to a mage, or someone from a Magical Enclave.

_Hermione J. Granger, Order of Merlin, First Class._

_Head Girl and Valedictorian, Hogwarts, Class of 1998._

_Arithmacy and Runes Masteries, First Class, Athena Academy for Advanced Symbology._

_Ward Designer, Adept-Level, Gringotts._

**_Ipsa Scientia Potestas est. Scito te Ipsum._**

Knowledge Itself is Power. Know Yourself.

He looked as she folded and tucked the carpet away, and then cast a series of spells to remove the magical traps from around the base of the display pedestal.

She met his eyes calmly before speaking. "You have my information. If you make any effort you can easily locate me. But you will have no reason to. The Aurors will be able to answer your questions and verify once the statue has been picked up." She bowed her head slightly and stepped back. "I will not say it was a pleasure meeting you but it was certainly interesting. Good-bye Dark Knight." And then she vanished soundlessly.

Batman gritted his teeth, furious by her high-handed action. Leaving without his say so, just like… just like he did. He wondered if this was how Gordon felt whenever Batman vanished and showed up without any announcement, at the start of their partnership.

Deciding it made sense to test her claims he waited for the Aurors, the magical police, to show up. In that time he contacted Robin and Batgirl and informed them he was delayed -due to an investigation- and to run an extra circuit to cover the area he was supposed to.

It was fifteen minutes when one transported into the room, more noisily than her leaving. He was older, a few years younger than Gordon with less white and more salt-pepper covering his head. But he had the same eyes as the Commissioner, sunken weary crow's feet eyes. He wore an off-the-rack pale grey suit under an open navy blue trench-coat and soundless but scuffed black dress boots. He stiffened when he saw Batman.

"Derek Williams?" Batman inquired in a harsh I-mean-business voice. His usual voice.

The older man sighed. "Yeah, that's me. Did Granger contact you? I hate dealing with her sort. Her ilk walks right over due-process, breaking laws left and right, leaving a mess-."

"She did not contact me. I caught her stealing the jade dragon statue."

"What?" His complexion purpled before his anger vanished and his colour subsided. "You know what? I'm not going to even bother trying to charge her. Where is she?"

"She left about fifteen minutes ago." Batman hesitated. "She seemed sincere and open about her intentions."

Williams choked on a half-laugh. "Of course she is! That is what makes her sort so dangerous. She has good intentions and most of the time she is right. The problem is that she works outside the system and she has almost no checks or counters to balance her." Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "Just like most of you League folk."

Batman remained silent. He agreed with Williams about the threat many members of the Justice League could be if they ever went rogue. In fact they had seen it when Darkseid had mind-controlled Superman and sent him on a rampage. But the sad truth was heroes were a necessity. They filled a need the ordinary police and military could not.

Williams seemed satisfied by the impact of his words so he continued. "Did she leave any messages?"

"She said you could answer a few questions."

The Auror considered his options before shrugging. "Sure why not. Just let me process these idiots." He knelt beside the wire bound men and produced his wand. The next few minutes were quiet as he cast several spells, muttering softly at the results produced.

That made Batman wary. "You aren't going to wipe my memories once we've talked?"

"Nah. I'm sure you have plenty of experience keeping your lips zipped and any secrets you know to yourself so I'm not going to even bother Obliviating you. Besides, given your training and psych profile you'll probably notice any discrepancies and gaps and break down the memory blocks. You're already a paranoid bastard and I really don't want you or the League targeting the Enclaves. Just give me a second to finish up here."

Williams finished casting the last spell before producing a pair of playing cards from his pocket and slapping one card on each man, slipping the flexible rectangles behind the cables binding both would-be thieves.

"Booking Room Five. Booking Room Six."

Both men vanished with a soft pop and small light show. Seeing the inquiring look on the Caped Crusader the Auror explained. "Portkey. Sends whoever is in contact to HQ for processing. They'll be held until I can get back to do a thorough interrogation."

Batman inclined his head in understanding. "Any opinions? About her claims?"

Williams pulled out a small note book. "I did some of my own digging on Bellucino. Granger is almost certainly right about him having a buyer for the artefact. This attempted theft was probably to make an insurance claim since he will not be able to recover the statue once the ritual is done." Seeing Batman's confusion Williams explained. "The downside of this empowerment ritual is it's a one-time only deal. The process destroys the amplifiers, the statues. If the caster screws up it sets off a backlash that destroys His magical core. Anyway once the warrants have been signed we'll raid Bellucino for any scrap of information on the buyer. If he is overseas the ICW hitwizards will get the file and do the legwork to locate and secure the remaining statues." Seeing Batman's confusion the Auror expanded on his explanation. "The International Council of Wizards is the magical version of the UN, hitwizards are the equivalent of Interpol, international Aurors. There is probably going to be a lot of hoopla over who takes ownership of the phoenix and dragon since they were stolen from non-magical museums." He snorted softly. "I'm glad that's not my responsibility."

"Will you keep me informed about the situation? When you have the dragon?"

Williams considered the request and shrugged. "Sure. I'll be informing Commissioner Gordon through the back channels when we've picked up the dragon. I'm sure you have your own sources in the GCPD and backdoors into their databases. The dragon is probably going to go straight to the hitwizards though; to help in tracking down the other three pieces."

Batman nodded agreeably before deciding to take advantage of the talkative Auror.

"Who is she?"

Williams was befuddled. "Who? Granger?"

"Yes."

Understanding dawned. "Oh yeah, you wouldn't know." And then he proceeded to launch into a modern history lesson on the British wizarding society and enclaves, and biographies of the major factions/players including one Hermione Granger. It was a while before the Auror concluded his impromptu lecture.

"As far as I know right now she works as a freelance trouble shooter for the British Ministry of Magic. She is really tight with Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current British Minister of Magic, and she has a lot of leeway and open doors in Europe given her history and success rates. But you know what Batman, I really don't have issues with her motivation; it's her methods that get to me. Hell Merlin, who am I to complain about heroes? Gordon probably bitches about you as much as I bitch about Granger."

Batman was disturbed by all the new information especially the details on Hermione Granger. She had been saving innocents, when she was still a teenager, with next to zero real-life combat training.

"You are comfortable with a civilian doing this? Deliberately putting herself in danger?"

Derek Williams shook his head and smiled sadly. "From where I stand you are a civilian just like Hermione Granger, only you trained yourself and wear a costume while you're on the job. She never had that luxury."

Batman growled softly. "I had my reasons. And Gotham needs Batman. Then and Now. And sometimes I think Forever. The regular police cannot handle the Rogues."

"So you choose to act outside the system." Williams pointed out. Batman glared. The Auror made a calm-down gesture. "I'm not saying anything Batman, you have your reasons, you saw a need that you felt you could satisfy; so you acted.

"You know, I saw a pensieve recording of a press conference she held a few months after the Final Battle. Many reporters asked her if she would go into the Ministry, or work as an Auror given her skill and power. She said no. Because she had damn little trust in any bureaucracy after the Muggleborn Registrations Act. She was never going to give her loyalty to any one organization; only to a person she knew she could depend on. Her views were highly unpopular at the time. She broke up with her boyfriend and was ostracized until Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt publicly supported her views. She spent a few years abroad studying and when she returned Shacklebolt was the first to welcome her back and give her clearance and authority to investigate and resolve highly sensitive matters on his behalf. I last heard her case-closed rate was in excess of ninety-six percent." He glanced at his wristwatch. "As much as I'd love to stay and chat I have to go. I have two criminals that need to be interrogated and I'm certain the contents of my inbox have tripled by now."

And he vanished with a soft pop.

Batman stared at the point where the wizard had stood, torn and confused by the difficult and highly unorthodox history of a woman who had appeared to be so ordinary at first glance.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

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AN: One more chapter to go.

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	3. Third Meetings

Summary: Their third meeting is pre-planned. She has sparked his interest and he is determined to pursue it to whatever it may lead.

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**~ooO Crossing Paths (3) Third Meetings Ooo~**

A quiet dark condo-flat was flooded with light from a variety of charmed crystal spheres the moment the owner crossed the protection wards for the first time in three months.

Hermione groaned as she stumbled, making her way to the over stuffed chairs set around the enlarged fireplace. She nearly tripped and fell over the edge of a carpet, barely catching herself on a sideboard.

"I really need a break." She mumbled to herself before setting herself down and sinking back into the overstuffed comfort surrounding and behind her. She closed her eyes to savour the warmth and tranquility.

The past ten weeks had been exhausting, a whirlwind of activity helping the ICW hitwizards track the statues and various criminals all over the planet through Muggle cities and Magical Enclaves. Once the statues had been secured and verified as true components for the ritual she had been 'requested' to set up the wards for their new homes. The first museum to be warded was in Kyoto, Japan. After the successful completion she had been invited to lecture and observe at Masaki Institute for Higher Magicks. It was an offer she could not refuse so she stayed as long as she could. But her commitments and obligations called so she made her farewells and travelled back to cold, dreary England.

She forced her eyelids to open. The red light on the Muggle answering machine was flashing. She rarely received voice messages on her telephone. Most of her contacts were familiar with the magical world and magical methods of communication, like owl-post, floo, or patronus. In fact the only ones who would leave messages on her Muggle phone was…

"Play Voice Messages."

"Hermione dear, this is your mother. I heard from your grandmother you had visited her old friend Isabelle Vandermeer in Gotham City. You don't know how happy I am you made the effort to socialize in the… non-magical world. I understand you met quite a few interesting gentlemen in Gotham. I would like to talk to you about that. You aren't getting any younger and you don't seem to be interested in any of the wizards you meet. Perhaps a nice non-magical gentleman might be of more interest to you. Anyways, your friend Harry said you would be back from Japan this week Friday. I'd like you to come over for a formal sit-down dinner on Tuesday, around seven. Dress nicely because we'll be having guests."

Hermione groaned. She had originally planned on being back Friday but had delayed her departure to squeeze a few lectures in. Today was Tuesday!

She glanced at the clock. It was five-thirty. If she rushed she could squeeze a long hot soak before Apparating over to her childhood home. She did not want to call and tell her mother she would not be showing up tonight. This was the first time Jane Granger had actively called her and invited her to an event she was hosting.

A bitter sweet smile curved cracked dry lips. All throughout her childhood and teen years her parents had actively involved her in their social lives and travels. She had visited museums and fairs, attended fund raising events and charity drives, seen operas and plays, travelled by bus boat train and plane. They had always been so proud of her, eager to show her off to all their friends and acquaintances. All that had changed when she Obliviated them, when they returned from Australia. Her leaving for Greece and not returning for three years did not help either.

But they were inviting her to a formal dinner! Sure they were probably trying to set her up with the Muggle son of a friend but still they would be acknowledging her in public! She pushed herself up and off the comfy chair. She had to go through her wardrobe for a suitable dress.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

One hour later Hermione Apparated into the gazebo set in the backyard of her childhood home. There was no one around to witness her arrival. Hermione could hear the laughter and music drifting from the formal dining room. In warmer weather the French doors would be opened onto the large patio deck. Meals would involve something seared in the outdoor bar-be-que.

Deftly she made her way to the side entrance leading into the mudroom. With the ease of much practice she slipped off her cloak and hung it up on the closest peg to dry. A quick Scrougify removed the worst of the damp from her black ballet-style shoes.

Carefully she shook out the layers of eggplant silk and taffeta that made up the ankle-length skirts of her dress. The bodice was raw silk and fitted with a high mandarin collar accented with heavy silver beadwork, embroidery and buttons over the shoulders and bodice, down the front, and around the waist. The long cuffed sleeves were thin and sheer, revealing the slim strength in her arms.

A quick glance in the mirror reassured Hermione of her appearance. Her make-up was smooth and unmarred: mascara dark and even, lips full and glossy. Her mouth trembled slightly before the image in the mirror lifted her chin up and visibly firmed. She was a grown woman. She would like parental blessings but she did not need it.

With that thought in her fore-mind she stepped into the living spaces of the main floor, where the entertaining and cooking was done.

"Hermione dear!"

Jane Granger looked as youthful and elegant as ever. Her still-lithe figure clad in the traditional black dress made of silk and lace falling straight to her ankles. Unlike Hermione, Jane Granger wore a pair of high-heeled black T-strap stilettos that emphasized the slenderness of her legs. Hermione hoped she would age as gracefully as her mother and maternal grandmother.

She brushed her cheek against the older woman's.

"Mother."

"Hermione." The younger woman noted the suppressed excitement. "You never told me you met the most interesting people in Gotham!"

Hermione blinked. Who? The only person that stood out in her mind was Batman. "Err, I met lots of people Mother. Who are you referring to?"

Jane blinked, taken aback. "I mean Bruce Wayne!"

That rocked the witch back on her heels. "Oh. Oh him! Isabelle introduced us but I didn't think much of it. I mean he must meet lots of people at society parties."

Jane smirked. "Well, you must have caught his interest dear; because he went out of his way to visit us while you were in Japan."

Hermione froze. Her mind worked lightening fast. No, he was not here because he was romantically interested in her like her mother thought. He was here because he doing background research on her. But then why reveal himself to her parents?

Silently she allowed her mother to draw her into the midst of the party and to the guest of honour: Bruce Wayne.

Light brown, almost gold eyes met dark cobalt blue. Long lashes dipped briefly veiling gold.

"Mr. Wayne."

"Miss Granger."

Once the polite small talk was done he deftly manoeuvred her to a more quiet area of the marble tiled room currently doubling as a small dance floor.

"May I ask what you are doing here?"

Dark blue eyes studied her intently. "I'm here for my dance."

"Excuse me?"

"I said next time we met we would dance. So here I am."

"You can't be serious! If you want to know about the dragon it is in Japan. I just completed designing and setting up the security wards for it and the tiger in a magical museum in Kyoto."

He studied her thoughtfully. "Your parents don't know do they?" It was more of a statement than a question.

She stiffened imperceptibly. "Of course they know I'm a witch."

She did not protest as he shifted and arranged his hands on her, forcing her to dance or look like an uncooperative rag-doll in his arms.

"They don't know what you do. That you risk your life every time you leave on your trips."

She looked away for a second before meeting his eyes with an angry glare. "No they don't. And they won't." She practically dared him to refute her words, her choice.

He did not. Instead he asked her a question she did not expect.

"Why do you do this? Accept investigations and cases that have a high probability of killing off the investigators." His eyes were troubled. "I accepted the risks but I take much more care to protect myself from potential enemies than you do."

Her eyes softened, seeing his motivation. He wanted to know. "If I don't do it who will? Besides costumes and masks do not work well in my line of work; residue from magical auras are unique identifiers, like fingerprints. I could blur my aura but it would hamper my effectiveness to an unacceptable degree."

He nodded slowly.

They danced in silence for a while. He manoeuvred them through the throng of couples dancing and to a set of French doors. Ten seconds later they were outside in the cool late Fall night.

He was standing close; close enough for her to feel the heat of his body through her dress. She shivered slightly in reaction.

"I'd like to start over."

Pale brown eyes widened as she looked up shocked.

"Excuse me?" Her voice was rich with scepticism.

"I'd like to start over." He repeated himself, but this time his voice was low and harsh; it was Batman's voice.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She reached out and touched his arm. "I like this voice better than the air-head playboy voice. This is real and much more reliable than the other one."

Bruce blinked surprised that anyone would prefer the rough scary tones of Batman to the cultured suaveness of the Playboy.

"Excuse me?" The Playboy's words in the Batman's voice.

She glanced up at him. "The Playboy is a mask, this," She gestured at his expensive suit. "Is a pretence you use to protect yourself. Batman is a much more dominant part of your psyche. He is more real than the Playboy."

He cocked his head to one side, an echo of what she had witnessed in the GCNH Museum. "And you are not afraid?" His tone was demanding, challenging.

She smiled and couldn't resist the urge to reach out and caress his cheek, reassuringly as a mother would though her feelings for him were anything but motherly.

"This is the real you and I prefer him."

"And what about the Playboy?" He wanted to know.

Hermione was silent for a while. Then she spoke slowly.

"Every Prince must eventually become a King. Sometimes that transition is rocky and irregular but one would hope by the time the Prince becomes King he has enough maturity and wisdom to put away childish things and grow-up as it were."

He stared at her, torn and hopeful. Then he spoke.

"May I kiss you?"

She stared up at him confused and faintly hopeful all the same.

"You may."

Hermione did not know what she would do if the kiss turned out to be a dud. Probably scream and demand a refund from whoever programmed her rather stunted feminine instincts.

Turned out she didn't have any need to demand a refund.

When they finally separated, both were breathing rather hard, bodies aching and yearning for more.

She brushed her painted nails over his mouth.

"I think we need to discuss the logistics of how this is going to work." She murmured.

He kissed her fingertips before answering. "I have to stay in Gotham."

Hermione nodded agreeably. "I can work from pretty much anywhere. If I delegate and plan I can reduce my travel time to a few weeks every quarter."

His eyes were serious. "I cannot guarantee anything."

"I would not expect you to. If you do I'd call you a liar."

"I'm not good at opening up."

"I'm pretty patient and good at getting my way."

"I have a lot of enemies."

"So do I."

He was quiet for a while as he brushed his fingers over her hairline.

"Do you think we can work?"

"We can only try."

And that's just what they did. In a most successful manner too.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The End.

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AN: I think it is pretty easy to imagine what comes next. I tend to be more interested in writing the tale of how they come together, and perhaps just a little bit of what comes after.


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